


Flying Lessons

by Closemyeyesandleap13



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2391908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closemyeyesandleap13/pseuds/Closemyeyesandleap13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after Natasha joins SHIELD. Clint lets his new partner fly a quinjet, and quickly realizes just how important proper training is. Coulson is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally wrote this to be part of a longer fic, but seeing as how that's not getting posted any time soon, I figured I’d just post this as a quick oneshot because what the hell, why not.
> 
> Tumblr Link [[ x ]](http://wolveslnthenight.tumblr.com/post/98956768276)

"I don't have time to debrief you," Coulson was saying. They fell into step behind him, walking briskly towards the quinjet launch station. He handed Clint a packet as they walked. "Read up, suit up, meet me over there."

"Gotcha," Clint said, flipping open the file and glancing at it briefly. Budapest was the first word that jumped out at him before Natasha spoke.

"We’re not riding with you?"

Coulson stopped and turned to face them. He gestured at a quinjet down at the end of the hangar that was already prepped for flight. "Quinjet's full. It's technically this team's op, but I requested your help. I figured you two would be fine meeting us over there."

"So when do I get to fly one of these things?" Natasha asked, running her fingers along the nose of the quinjet nearest to them.

"Soon," Clint promised.

"There's a training course that's required," Coulson said. "You have to complete the training, pass the test, and get a license."

Natasha frowned at Clint. He winked and she bit back a smirk. Unfortunately, the exchange had not gone unnoticed by their handler.

"SHIELD has a very strict policy about-"

Before he could really get into his lecture, a woman stuck her head out of the waiting quinjet.

"Agent Coulson, we need to get moving."

"I'm coming," he called back. He fixed his agents with a stern look. Several things he wanted to say to them came to mind, but he finally decided on, "Arrive in one piece, please."

The pair wore matching grins, and it was Clint who answered.

"Yes, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After making sure their quinjet was loaded up with everything they'd need, they got ready to take off. There was some confusion as Clint and Natasha both went to sit in the pilot’s chair.

"Where are you going, Agent Romanoff?" he asked.

"To Budapest, apparently," she answered sarcastically.

"You haven't taken the training course, you can't fly..."

Natasha fixed him with a look that was something between confused and annoyed, but slowly took the other seat. He glanced behind them at the mechanic who was just finishing with his maintenance check.

"Be cool, will you?" Clint said, lowering his voice. The guy looked over a few more things, gave them the all clear, and then left. Clint waited until he was out of sight, then dropped the professional façade. "Man, I thought you were an expert at the whole rule-breaking thing. Here, switch me."

Natasha's face lit up and she crawled over him to take the pilot's seat excitedly. Clint buckled himself in and glanced over to see her curiously peering at the buttons. She pressed one and the engine roared to life, making an awful grinding noise. The quinjet lurched forward and Clint's eyes widened. He scrambled to press the button again.

"Jesus Romanoff, really?" he said, giving her a look of disbelief as the engine quieted.

"Sorry," she said, with absolutely no remorse.

"If you're gonna press buttons before you know what they do, I'm flying."

"Nope, no takebacks."

Clint looked down at his safety belt and tugged hard on every strap to make sure it was secure enough. He got the feeling he was going to need it for this ride. Mentally, he began going over the placement of all parachutes within reaching distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were somewhere over the Atlantic when something suddenly occurred to Natasha.

"Hey, can this thing do flips?"

Clint hesitated. He could lie. He _wanted_ to lie. But she would find out eventually. Or possibly kill them while trying to prove him wrong.

"Yeah," he said reluctantly. "But that's pretty advanced, you shouldn't-"

Natasha grinned and yanked the control stick to the right. The quinjet did several rolls in the sky before leveling out again.

"Awesome," she said proudly, her face bright with excitement and adrenaline.

Clint laughed nervously and slowly released his death grip on the edge of his seat. "Yeah. Awesome."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright so just tip the nose down a little."

"I've got it."

"A little more."

"I've _got_ it."

"More, Nat, you have to do it more or we're gonna miss the airport by like five miles."

The quinjet suddenly went into a vertical dive straight down towards the ground.

"NATASHA!" Clint grabbed the control stick, yanking it up. The quinjet jerked back up towards the sky, wobbled a little, steadied. They were both silent for a moment before Natasha finally spoke up.

"I missed the landing strip..."

Clint let out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and Natasha actually began to feel a little guilty. He was trying so hard to be patient with her.

"Okay," he said. "It's okay. Just circle around and try it again."

As she went in for take two, Clint tried to give calmer instructions.

"Ease off the throttle a little. There you go. Aim the nose down. You're gonna want to hover over the landing zone then just take it down easy."

Natasha's face was scrunched up in concentration, and when the jet was finally hovering steadily above the ground, she smiled. "See? Easy."

As she began to lower the quinjet, Clint suddenly realized what was missing.

"Wheels."

"What?"

"Wheels!" he said, panicking now as the quinjet was only a few feet above the cement. He pointed desperately at the button to release the landing wheels.

Natasha jerked the control stick up to keep from crashing, then released the wheels. Despite her intensely concentrated gaze as she lowered it again, the quinjet bounced several times as the wheels hit the ground, the rubber squealing before they finally came to a full stop. Clint didn't think he'd ever felt so relieved.

"Coulson's here," Natasha said casually, as if she hadn't just nearly killed them several times.

Clint opened his eyes and looked out her window to see their handler a little ways away, watching their jet with his arms crossed over his chest. It was dark outside, but Coulson would have no doubts about who was flying after a landing like _that_. They hopped out through the back, and it took a lot of effort on Clint’s part not to run as fast as he could away from the aircraft.

"Oh good. You're alive," Coulson said as they approached. "Agent Hartley owes me ten bucks."


End file.
